


Romance is a Riddle

by RCAR



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Reader-Insert, ill add more characters as they appeared, not too much planned yet, probably a romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-05
Updated: 2016-04-05
Packaged: 2018-05-31 08:58:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6464050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RCAR/pseuds/RCAR
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You have been friends with Edward Nygma for a long time, but now new feelings are coming into play for both of you, but you're not sure what to do about them. Both of you being pursued and pursuing others adds more confusion to the mix, and whether you end up together is a mystery, and no one is more ready to solve this puzzle than Ed himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Romance is a Riddle

**Author's Note:**

> i don't really have a plot lined up for this yet, but i have a general outline. we'll see if this makes it past the pilot

You had known Ed for years. Both of you were sort of…outcasts if you will during high school. Him, the dorkiest kid this side of the Gotham river, and you, the awkwardly dressed daughter of a violinist and world renowned food critic. You fared better than him, to be sure, but only because of who your parents were. Out of respect, the other kids only ostracized you. Poor Edward Nygma was not as fortunate, but you did your best to protect him. Being the only person who actively engaged in conversation with him was what brought you two so close, and you decided that if the other kids refused to be nice to him, they weren’t worth your time.

 

“(y/n), you don’t have to cut out everyone else for me, really,” Ed mumbled, fixing his shirt sleeve, “it’s not like being friends with me means you can have no one else.”

You put your hands on his shoulders, then looked into his eyes seriously. You had just interrupted some bullies, and both you and Ed were crouched on the ground, him recovering and you comforting.

“Ed, there is no one worth my time if they pick on someone as important to me as you,” you stated firmly.

People had started becoming nicer to you your senior year. You cut your hair to a length you could keep neat and tidy, learned how to mix your style with fashion while keeping true to you, and to be honest… you were hot. Like, really hot. The student body had definitely taken notice of that. Ed shot up about a foot, but was still struggling to control his new gangly limbs, and the acne was out of control. Poor boy knew nothing about concealer.

“Come on Ed, it’s game night and I got that new video game everyone’s been raving about,” You pulled him up, fixed his collar, and distracted him with talk of orcs and wizards until he was smiling again.

 

“What costs nothing but is worth everything, weighs nothing, but can last a lifetime, that one person can't own, but two or more can share?”

 

Ed looks up and smiles to see you standing over his desk. Presenting a wrapped box to him, you say,

“Happy Friendship Anniversary, Riddles.”

 

            It was August 25, the day you had first met Ed. It was a tradition for the two of you to exchange extremely random gifts to celebrate the years you spent together.

           

            “I thought we were going to do this at our lunch breaks, (y/n),” He chastises, his eyes still flicking over the gift. You roll your eyes, pushing the present in his hands and sliding up on top of his desk, crossing one leg over the other. You were wearing a black skirt with a white midriff top, covered by an olive-green army jacket. Your hair was topped off with a Grecian headband, and your nails were a deep burgundy. To sum it up, you looked good.

 

            You wave off his comment, stating, “lunch is in twenty minutes, and I couldn’t wait. You know the drill, five questions, go.”

 

            “Is it something a grandparent would love?” He doesn’t miss a beat.

You hum thoughtfully, “I guess so, yes. If only with nostalgia.”

“Is it made of a precious metal?”

“No.”

“Would a child like it?”

“yes,” your eyes start to narrow.

“Is it an original Mr. Potato Head?”

“Dammit!” You throw your arms in the air, “Every time, Ed. I’ll get you one year, mark my words,” You waggle your finger in front of his face in mock-seriousness. He pushes your finger to the side, with a smug look on his face.

“You’re too easy, (y/n). Plus,” He continues to speak while he opens the present, “the randomness with which you choose the gifts is oddly predictable. Yours,” He hands you a long box without looking up from the very scary Mr. Potato Head doll in his hand. Seriously, it was the weirdest thing in the pawn shop, and that was why you took it.

You rolled your head side to side as if warming up, “Alright, Mr. Nygma, lets see if you brought your A-game this year—“

“Nygma.”

You both turn around at the sound of a new presence in the room.

            Ed automatically started blubbering in surprise, “D-detectives, what a surprise! this is my friend—“

“Yeah, don’t care. What do you have on the Lyole case?”

You could see Edward blush a little in embarrassment. This was not how he wanted you to see him treated in the office. You frowned a bit, cocking your head to the side to observe the bearded man and his crew-cut partner.

 _‘How rude,’_ you thought.

Too flustered to get out a riddle, Ed simply replied, “well, I have the gun registry files here, and it’s simply fascinating,” his work seemed to bring back his dorky excitement, and he had jumped up around the desk, presenting the files in front of the detectives, “the prints found on the gun were similar to Mr. Lyole’s in all ways, except for the pointer finger. _Completely_ different prints, all of which match his wives. My theory, she tried to replicate them, but missed one point.”

            “Good work Ed, we’re gonna need the wife’s numbers before lunch, think you can get that?” The more serious one asked.

Edward nodded his head rapidly, grinning, “of course, Detective Gordon, I’ll get right on it.”

            “Awesome,” Gordon replied, nodding his head towards you in farewell, then seeming to do a double take when he looked at your closer.

Clearing your throat, you put your present down. Sliding off the desk, bringing both Detectives attentions to your legs, you brushed out your skirt and walked forward to give Ed a quick hug, “See you at Guillaume’s later? Seems like you’ve got some work to do here before we can celebrate, hot shot.”

Ed smiled, “affirmative. See you at the appointed meeting spot, agent.”

You mock a serious salute, “Major,” then laugh, “see you Ed.” Looking at the detectives once more, you smile politely, “nice to meet you Detectives.”

As soon as you leave the room, Bullock gives Ed an incredulous look, “who. The hell. Was _that_ ,” he gestures to the door you just traipsed through with his finger.


End file.
